Like Glass
by pandanarchy
Summary: An AU with younger Haru and older Makoto. Haru lives in a fairly desperate situation. He's suffering from undiagnosed depression and Makoto appears in his life exactly when he needs him most. Haru is overwhelmed by Makoto's unyielding kindness but his mother continually ruins everything for him. Rated T for language and violence (other warnings inside)
1. Prologue

**A/N: This story contains inference of under-age (and unrequited) love, with younger Haru and older Makoto. There are warnings for domestic/child abuse and neglect, emotional trauma, and mentions of self-harm and purging.**

The park on the corner was the same every day. The brightly coloured playground and neglected creaky swings never changed. The sky was always bathed in the same golden orange light in the afternoon and the busy sounds of traffic were always gnawing away in the back of his mind. The faces of the children around him may change, but the world was static. The grass never got any greener and Haru never got any closer to making any friends. After a while, his mother seemed to recognise the impenetrable cocoon of loneliness the boy had weaved around himself, constructed from the broken dreams of his childhood and the tattered remains of the failed relationship between him and his parents. When he finally withdrew and stopped talking altogether, she stopped pressuring him into social situations. She had given up on him. It was pointless now anyway. No matter how hard she pressed the issue, he would never be a "normal kid" and he felt like he would never meet up to her expectations.


	2. The Ice Cream Incident

A dull school bell rang for what seemed like eternity. To most people it would have seemed like a signal for freedom, but for 11 year old Haru, it was only the beginning of his transfer from one cage to another. Rather than forcing him to wait at the park for an hour, his mother had finally caved in and agreed to pick him up straight from the school gates. He felt trapped in the metal confines of the car, like he was slowly running out of oxygen, but it was better for everyone this way. Maybe without his presence the park could expand and grow and something miraculously interesting might take place for once but he sincerely doubted it.

As the car door slammed behind him with a solid thud, his desperate mother tried to bridge communications with the mute-by-choice boy. Questions about his day hung in the air creating a stuffy atmosphere but he refused to acknowledge them. He refused to even look her way. Now she wanted to talk to him? Haru didn't like the negative emotion welling in his chest, the grudge he held against his parents. When it had first appeared, he'd tried everything to purge it from his system, from induced vomiting to self harm. Despite his efforts, it had anchored itself in his chest and it throbbed as a reminder of its existence every time his mother's voice touched his ears. Every time she tried to pretend to be a good parent.

Even an 11 year old boy could understand that something was wrong with this picture. It was like a picnic where everyone invited didn't really want to be there, they'd only come along to be polite. Big, fake smiles were held in place with staples and everyone pretended to get along for a while, until the father realised the picnic basket was missing. Most people went home. Some stayed and tried to make the best of it, but there was nothing they could do with nothing but a square blanket and no food.

In a normal family, at least one of your parents should be home every night. As a child you shouldn't have to fend for yourself. Those were the expectations of society. Haru just couldn't understand how this had been miscommunicated to his parents. Six nights out of seven he'd have to scrounge up his own meals, using the few ingredients in the almost bare kitchen cupboards. He knew there was a word for it. "Neglect." He also knew he'd never forgive his parents for their years of relentless neglect and for his lost childhood.

It was summer and it was hot. It had been roughly eight weeks since Haru had "mysteriously lost the ability to speak." His heart had been sealed off from the outside world and he far preferred it that way. Of course it meant that he had to awkwardly interact with hand gestures and rely on other people sometimes, but that was rare and it was a price worth paying for privacy.

It was Thursday afternoon and his mother was late picking him up - which shouldn't have come as a surprise to him. Even after everything he'd gone through to get away from it, Haru had decided to wait for her in the park. Seeing the playground equipment again after so long made his insides twist and turn and the knots were so tight he wondered if he'd even be able to digest dinner that night. He didn't know why he'd chosen to come back if that was the way it made him feel. He could only describe it as a sensation similar to magnetic attraction. On this particular day he'd felt a peculiar tug on his sleeve, urging him to go to the park, so he'd gone.

A few squeals of laughter met his ears and an irrational jealousy flared up within him. He wanted to be as carefree as those children but it seemed unattainable for him. It was as if there was a personal storm cloud stereotypically hovering just above the crown of his head. He felt the heavy jingling of loose change in his pockets and decided to cheer himself up. He joined the queue at the ice cream truck, falling in line behind a tall young man dressed in a sharp navy suit.

Haru studied the menu carefully, trying to figure out the best solution to his problem. As usual, no one was here to help him so he had to try and place an order without using his words. He decided it would be easiest to pick an ice cream within the first ten options on the menu, so he could indicate his choice with his fingers. He heard the man in front of him order a melon flavoured ice cream and he thought that sounded pretty good. But when his eyes searched the side of the ice cream truck, he concluded that trying to count to 17 would be too hard.

Before he'd prepared himself, he found himself staring at the pudgy faced ice cream man. A lump caught in his throat as he realised there were people waiting in line behind him. He didn't want to be a burden. He didn't want to hold them up. Scrambling, he pointed to the menu and then held up eight fingers, not even entirely sure of what he was ordering. The server seemed to understand and Haru noticed the sweat gathering at his chin and dimples when he smiled. As hot as it was outside, it was probably even hotter in the cramped truck. Haru felt a little bit of pity for him.

"That'll be ¥230 please," the server said, handing the already melting ice cream to Haru, who fumbled with his change in his spare hand. The server sighed. "Kid, this is only ¥180." Oh shit, oh no. What now? Did he have to give the ice cream back? Or should he just run? Haru froze in a panic, his heart pounding in his chest and his brain working in overdrive. He was so stupid. He should have counted his money properly first or at least studied the menu harder.

"Don't worry, I got it," a friendly voice chimed in. Haru looked up, surprised to see the man who'd been in front of him. Apparently he'd been loitering around for a moment longer, waiting to ask the staff for an extra napkin. He dumped several silver coins on the counter and winked at Haru with sparkling green eyes. In that moment, looking into those warm eyes, a tiny crack seemed to appear in Haru's protective cocoon.

When the young man turned to leave, Haru found his legs working to follow. Magnetic attraction. They'd only gotten a few metres when the man stopped so suddenly that Haru almost ran straight into him. He silently cursed himself, wondering what the hell he would have done if he'd smeared ice cream - more specifically coconut rough ice cream - across this stranger's back, ruining his expensive looking suit. He supposed he would have had to have broken his unofficial vow of silence to apologise.

"Are you following me?" the man asked as he whirled around, his tone light and vaguely amused. Haru naturally responded with a shrug. He wanted to say thank you but he didn't want to use his voice so he awkwardly gestured to his ice cream and nodded his head slightly. The man seemed to understand well enough, the smile not wavering from his face as he replied, "Any time."

Relief washed over Haru like a gentle wave lapping at the shore, slowly spreading throughout his body. Whenever his parents bought him anything, they always made a big fuss about how selfish and ungrateful he was and he hated to think he'd be indebted to a stranger. This small notion of kindness wasn't enough to make up for his parents, but it somehow managed to cheer him up more than the ice cream itself.

Haru looked up again, suddenly realising the man's eyes were on him and he was tapping his chin thoughtfully. Haru's face flared red with embarrassment and he averted his gaze to his feet once more, tentatively taking a lick of his ice cream. He could feel the man's eyes boring holes into him even if that wasn't his intention. Haru had always hated being watched and however alluring he found those green eyes, they were no exception. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably and waited in silence because there was nothing else he could do.

"I don't get it..." the man said slowly, his tone thoughtful as if he was speaking his thoughts aloud. "You're not deaf, are you?" Haru had been asked that before so he wasn't surprised in the least. He shook his head vigorously in response. "Is it anxiety?" A shrug of his shoulders this time. Who could be sure what he was feeling? "Ah...are you mute?" That was a tricky one since it carried inference to the physical condition more than selective muteness. Haru simply shrugged again and bit into his ice cream, grimacing slightly due to the cold assaulting his teeth.

"Well," the man began, picking his feet up again. He paused and gestured that Haru walk alongside him. "I'm Makoto," he introduced himself. "I'm not sure what kids do for introductions these days, but uh... I'm 19 years old and I'm studying Law at university. Nice to meet you."

Haru was in awe. He'd never known anyone who went to university before and he was sure Makoto had to be some kind of genius to be studying Law. He couldn't even begin to comprehend how complex and difficult it must have been. He blindly followed Makoto, who lead him to a rickety wooden park bench. There wasn't much room on the old bench and it groaned at the slightest movement. Haru found his slender leg pressed against Makoto's and he stuffed his face with his ice cream to distract himself. The only line he was repeating in his head was "Wow, I'm sitting next to a genius."

They'd both hurried to finish their ice creams, racing against the sweltering heat. Although, having said that, since the sun had started to sink it was slowly getting cooler. The afternoon was wearing on, the tell-tale signs being the crimson streaks in the sky and golden highlights on the fluffy clouds, and the disappearance of children from the park. Well, that was an awful way to put it. Parents were coming in drips and drabs to collect their kids and go home for dinner or whatever it was families did.

Makoto must have followed his gaze to the departing children, or else he was thinking along an eerily similar line because he asked, "Is someone coming to pick you up soon?" Haru shrugged honestly, having no idea how long his mother would be. An uneasy expression settled across Makoto's face. Haru knew it was rude to stare, especially at someone older than you, but he seized the opportunity while Makoto seemed lost in thought.

His eyes traced the curves of Makoto's features closely. His skin was flawless and his jaw line was sharp and his chin angular. His facial features seemed elegant and defined, but Haru noticed the patchy stubble scattered around his chin. It looked like Makoto was still getting used to shaving his face. He knew it would feel scratchy but apart from that Haru wondered what it would feel like to touch it. He wondered what shaving felt like and he wondered how often you had to do it. He had no idea when he'd have to start shaving but he hoped it wasn't any time soon. It seemed like a pain.

"Haruka!" a shrill voice pierced the air, nearly piercing Haru's ear drums. His head whipped back and forth as he searched for the source of the screech. Seemingly materialising out of thin air, his mother seized his forearm in a vice-like grip, hauling him to his feet as effortlessly as if he were a ragdoll. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she demanded, her face close to his and her breath hot against his cheeks. "You little piece of shit! I thought you'd be waiting at school. I had no idea where you were. No fucking idea!"

Pinpricks of guilt began to eat at Haru as his mother publically berated him. More than that though, his small ears turned pink with embarrassment as he stole a glance at Makoto, who looked entirely taken aback by his mother's violent verbal outburst. There was a word for this too but it escaped him right now.

In a true demonstration of her double sided nature, his mother turned to Makoto, an apologetic smile on her face. "I'm terribly sorry if my son has been bothering you," she said, her voice taking on that sickly sweet tone she used on special occasions like this one. Haru thought she always overdid it and she was as transparent as a glass bottle.

"I-it's no problem at all," Makoto replied, visibly flustered by the sudden involvement in this drama. "Really, please don't get mad at him. He wasn't bothering me at all," he added in a rush, shooting Haru a sympathetic glance. Haru quickly looked away, avoiding eye contact. He needed his cocoon to be strong to get through this.

"Well, we'll just be going now," his mother said in farewell, the tension highly evident in her tone. She dragged Haru by the arm, her fingernails digging into his skin so hard that he wondered if he might bleed. He glanced back over his shoulder at Makoto, who stared back at him in plain bewilderment. As soon as Haru's arm was released, an open hand cracked across his face like a whip, bringing his attention back to what was in front of him.

"How many fucking times do I have to tell you..." His mother launched into another one of her pedantic lectures but his mind was suddenly preoccupied. He'd remembered that word. "Abuse."


	3. Grocery Day

The following day, Haru had his first experience with makeup. He'd never worn it before in his life since he thought it was reserved for teenage girls who wanted to look pretty and middle aged women who wanted to look young again. The powder made his skin itch and he squirmed as his mother applied it to his face but he didn't argue and he didn't dare wash it off. He didn't want his teachers to see the purplish bruise his father had left surrounding his left eye.

Nothing eventful happened that day. Or that week. Or the following week. Life passed like a blur, like he was the sole passenger on a train that never made any stops. He thought of Makoto a lot at first, wondering whether he was studying or doing exams or going to the arcade or whatever else university students did in their free time. He wondered what kind of impression he'd made on him, hoping he wouldn't just be blown off as "some kid who wasted his change." After a while, when he realised how pointless it was, he stopped thinking about Makoto. The light in his dark place had been extinguished by the damp attitudes of his parents.

There were no groceries. Haru hadn't eaten anything decent in maybe two days. Everything ached with hunger and he had difficulty moving his stiff joints when his mother asked him to get up and walk to the convenience store. Truthfully he'd barely heard her and he'd considered ignoring her but that was probably a bad idea. Besides, his body moved on its own at the prospect of food. A short, messy shopping list and two ¥1 000 notes were shoved into his hands before he was shoved out the door.

Walking was slow and painful and he took it one small step at a time. That was really all he could do for now. Eventually, he sluggishly made his way to the store and dejectedly began to browse the aisles with a hand basket tucked safely against his side, knocking his knee as he paced back and forth, frowning at the list.

A hand tapped his skinny shoulder and he jerked in surprise, a small squeaking sound escaping his throat before he could help himself. He spun around, surprised to see Makoto's kind and familiar face smiling down at him. While the expression was friendly, Haru could tell there was a hint of pity hidden underneath it. He hated that. He didn't want pity from anyone, least of all Makoto.

"How's it going?" Makoto asked casually, a slight amount of strain evident in his voice. Haru realised it was probably impossible for Makoto to look at him without remembering what had happened last time, and he felt his face burning as he fervently wished the tiles on the floor would open up and swallow him. Makoto tilted his head, a goofy smile taking a hold of his features. Was Haru imagining it or was that really cute?

Apparently realising that his question couldn't precisely be answered with a shake or nod of the head, Makoto reworded it. "Are you alright?" he asked, peering at Haru's face somewhat cautiously. "You seem lost. Do you need help finding something?"

Haru had been ready to glare at him, thinking this was only another form of pity when it hit him. He remembered Makoto buying him the ice cream. Makoto was a genuinely nice person. Haru nodded, accepting the offer, and he pointed to several items on the list. Makoto took the crumpled piece of paper from his hands, their fingers brushing slightly. Haru felt his heartbeat jump, and was a little disappointed to see that Makoto didn't react to the touch at all.

"Ok, what do we have here?" Makoto pondered aloud, followed by an exaggerated "Hmmmm." A frown crossed his face as he tried to decipher the scrawl. "Well, I have no idea what that is," he admitted with a chuckle that made the butterflies in Haru's stomach behave erratically. The more he looked at Makoto, the more he thought he was cute. "Alright, this way!" With a sweeping hand gesture, Makoto directed him down the 4th aisle of the store, casually observing the shelves and searching for what they needed.

A lot of the things were higher up than Haru could reach, but with Makoto's height it wasn't a problem. Where Haru would have stood on his toes and stretched out his limbs, Makoto reached with ease. Staring up at him, the thought popped into Haru's head that Makoto wasn't just cute; he was some kind of majestic. He was an incredibly admirable human being. It was hard to believe one person could be so tender and warm, especially when interacting with complete strangers. It was almost enough to make Haru believe in the world again, to convince him to let his guard down. But when he remembered the harsh contrasting characters of his parents, his head began to pound and he decided it wasn't a good idea after all.

"That looks like that's about it," Makoto said, dropping the last item into Haru's hand basket. A small grunt escaped Haru's throat as he struggled with the weight of the basket, his palms sweaty and the handle slipping in his hands slightly. An amused expression danced across Makoto's face and he asked, "Do you need a hand with that?" His tone and speech was so casual that it was almost refreshing. Rather than the vulgar language his parents used or the formal (and often condescending tone) his teacher took, it was nice to hear someone speak to him like he was a real person. Makoto wasn't even treating him like he was a child.

The idea that someone could be so nice to him was overwhelming and tears began to prick at the back of his eyes. He bit his lip, wordlessly handing the basket to Makoto, who took it on with ease. He didn't want to cry in a public place. He didn't want to cry in front of Makoto. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the concerned glance he gained from the tall man. Shaking his head to clear it, he gestured as best he could that they should head to the checkout now. Makoto followed just behind him, and Haru hastened his pace to match the man's longer strides. He didn't want to accidentally trip him up.

Expecting Makoto to dump the basket on the counter and leave, Haru was pleasantly surprised when he waited in line beside him. It wasn't anything like waiting in line with his mother, where she would often talk down to him or purposely humiliate him in front of the cashier. Makoto stood beside him without saying a word, quietly humming a soft melody. Haru almost felt like he could be equals with this man, but he knew that was an illusion or a dream that would never become reality. No matter what way he looked at it, Makoto was still older than him and that automatically gave him more command and set him above Haru. If anything, Haru should pay him more respect but that was a little difficult without spoken words.

The cashier asked for ¥1 544 and Haru handed over both his crumpled notes, his hands trembling slightly and his breath irritatingly uneven. He tried to regain control over himself as the young woman behind the counter tried to make small-talk with him, asking him how his day was going and making idle comments on the weather. All he could do was force a smile and nod, he wouldn't open his mouth to reply.

As he extended a hand to receive his change, Makoto piped up, "You should spend that on yourself." His voice was light and he carried a hint of encouragement in his smile. Haru shook his head violently in response and Makoto's eyebrows arched in surprise, his mouth popping open in a little 'o' shape. That was the strongest emotion Haru had willingly displayed so far and it caught him off guard. He hadn't really expected a rejection like that. Haru noticed his change in expression and felt a little guilty for his outburst but he couldn't or wouldn't use his words to explain. The unasked and unanswered question of "Why not?" hung in the air between them.

Haru didn't want to admit that his mother would be furious if he used what little money she had on himself. Makoto assumed it was something like that so it didn't really need further investigation anyway. Gathering up the heavy grocery bags, Haru smiled at Makoto. It wasn't even a forced smile. It was genuine and it lit up his entire face. He really appreciated Makoto's kindness and a smile was the only way he knew how to convey that. Makoto hesitated but grinned in response, flashing a row of dazzling white teeth. His emerald eyes glinted in the light and Haru caught a glimpse of true perfection.

Suddenly, Haru didn't want to leave just like that. Flyers for a competition caught his eye, set up on the counter for people to complete entry forms. Leaning his bags against the counter, he snatched up the pen and flipped his shopping list over, messily scratching something on the back. He handed the note to Makoto, his cheeks painted bright red and his small mouth pouting slightly.

"I hope I can see you again some time." The writing was relatively neat for his age and Makoto's grin widened as the words sunk in.

"Of course!" he replied cheerfully, ruffling Haru's hair with a large hand. "If you're around the park, I'm sure I'll see you again some time. Just make sure you take care, ok?" The last part was tacked on at the end, carrying slightly different connotations to the rest of the light-hearted phrase. Haru considered the seriousness of this. Makoto was concerned about his safety, which meant he at least had a vague impression of the treatment he received from his parents. All he could do was nod and swallow the stone in his throat. After that, he quickly left the store, leaving Makoto to finish running his own errands – which he felt endlessly bad about interrupting in the first place.

The walk home was quiet and he kept an even pace, coming to the realisation that he was counting on Makoto. He really, truly admired the man. Everything about him was something that Haru wanted to be. He couldn't imagine Makoto having any indecent or unlikable qualities. In Haru's eyes, he just seemed like an all-round perfect person. The smile on Haru's face stayed in place until he opened the front door when he returned home, greeted by his mother's shouting about him being late and his father's breath that reeked of hard liquor. The smile that Makoto had given Haru instantly faded as he was hit with the harsh reminder that not everyone was that nice.


	4. Freedom Tease

The next school morning, Haru mustered up enough courage to write a note his mother as well, inspired by his meeting with Makoto. He asked as politely as he could if he would be allowed to stay at the park after school. She predictably reacted with a range of unrestrained emotions; namely confusion at his sudden change of mind, relief that he wanted to do something normal, and anger that it meant going out of her way to pick him up. Either way, she reluctantly agreed and when Haru left for school, he was in the highest spirits he'd been in for a while. After all, there was the chance he might see Makoto in the afternoon.

Sitting through the several hours of boring class work didn't seem as boring as it usually did when there was something to look forward to at the end of the day. It was a foreign feeling for Haru; he'd never really had anything to look forward to before. While the teachers' droning faded into the background, he gazed wistfully out the window, hardly paying attention. He was called on to answer a question in Geography and by some stroke of luck, he guessed correctly. He was vaguely aware of his classmates giggling at him from time to time, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. It was normal behaviour for them to make fun of him. For the first time ever, when the bell sounded at the end of the day, Haru saw it as a sign of freedom.

Clumsily swinging his heavy backpack over his narrow shoulders, he passed through the tall iron gates and made a B-line for the park. Everything was the same as it always was. The bright primary colours of the plastic play equipment were almost jarring against the soft greens of the grass and the fading azure sky. Wispy clouds were smudged across the sky, giving Haru the impression that it was a painting the artist had tried to change at the last minute. With his hands folded neatly in his lap, he sat at the same bench as last time, his spine straight against the hard uncomfortable backrest and his eyes alert for any sign of Makoto.

As the air grew cooler and the sun began to set, Haru realised he must have been waiting for a couple of hours at least. He hadn't budged an inch the entire time, his eyes glued to a figure that had yet to appear. Golden light began to streak across the sky, the sun barely peeking over the horizon line and Haru stared at his feet, feeling very empty. He accepted the disappointment as if it was an old acquaintance, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around his body protectively. A small shiver ran through him and he closed his eyes, his long lashes just tickling his cheeks. He told himself he'd waited enough for one day. He could always come back another day. He probably shouldn't have gotten his hopes up anyway. It all seemed unimportant now since his mother would be arriving any minute, no doubt with a sour expression and a foul mood.

It wasn't important, but at the same time he felt that it was. He knew it wasn't Makoto's fault, but he felt let down. More than that, he felt like it was useless to place his faith in a single person. He'd invested the time, going out of his way and well out of his comfort-zone, and for what? Everything was pointless. He should just go home. He wanted to go home and curl up on his bed and never get up again. Even if his mother yelled at him, even if his father dragged him out of bed by the collar of his shirt, he just wanted to lie there in the darkness and not have to think about anything.

Shortly afterwards, his mother did arrive to pick him up, but she wasn't alone. In tow behind her was a very drunk man. His hair was out of place and he wore an impish grin. His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol and Haru didn't like the glances he kept stealing of his mother. He didn't quite understand it, but he knew it wasn't very polite. On the other hand, his mother didn't really seem to mind. She batted her eyelashes a lot and patted his arm with a manicured hand. The two of them almost walked past Haru entirely, apparently off in their own worlds.

"There you are!" his mother exclaimed when she suddenly noticed him, her eyebrows curving in a sign of irritation. Her words were slightly slurred and Haru realised she must have been drinking as well. Haru gave her a questioning look, his eyes darting from her to the man and back again. She smiled, seeming a little flustered. "This is my...friend. From work," she replied, making wild hand gestures that made Haru doubt the truth in her words. It sounded like something she'd come up with on the spot. She smiled a thin smile, her low voice taking on an almost menacing tone as she said, "Daddy doesn't need to know about him, ok?" Haru nodded, playing along. It wasn't as if he could tell his father anything even if he wanted to.

With a clumsy movement and a sweaty palm, his mother patted his head similar to how she would pat a small dog. Haru wriggled away from her touch, a disgruntled glare flickering briefly across his face before he resumed his blank expression. He smoothed his hair back down and stared directly ahead, trying his hardest not the notice the drunken man drooling over his mother's butt. It was so weird and creepy. He would never understand it.

"Well then, let's go home!" his mother announced with a giggle. What was that just now? She giggled again and punched her 'friend' playfully in the arm. "But not you. You can't come home with me!" Haru had seen his mother drunk before but he'd never seen her act like this. It was almost enough to make him think something might actually be wrong with her. She was aloof and carefree, casually laughing like this situation was the funniest thing in the world. To Haru it seemed quite dull, but then he supposed he wasn't under the influence of alcohol. Or maybe he was just missing the point. As the 'friend' stumbled away, his back disappearing behind the hedges that lined the roadside, Haru's mother turned to him, her face suddenly deadly serious.

"Hold my hand," she demanded childishly, sticking her hand out expectantly. Haru stared at it, utterly confused and amazed. What had the alcohol done to her? She hadn't held his hand since he was five. "Hold my hand!" she repeated, her volume slightly louder. There were still a few people loitering about the park and Haru didn't want to cause any more of a scene, so he reluctantly took her hand, still amazed by her elated expression. She was all smiles today and she hadn't yelled at him once. It was just so strange to him.

From what he'd been taught in school, people weren't allowed to drink alcohol and drive cars because it was dangerous. He remembered that in the back of his mind as he noticed that their car wasn't parked anywhere nearby. He sighed inwardly, not really looking forward to the long hike home. It had already been a long and exhausting enough day and he hadn't really wanted to expend that much more energy. He just wanted to lie down and sleep. The drag on the end of his arm made sure he kept his pace up to match his mother's, although her steps were somewhat wobbly. It took twice as long as usual, but they made in home without incident – and fortunately Haru supposed, without running into Makoto on the street. He would have died of embarrassment.


	5. Passing Notes

A few days later, Haru decided to ask his mother if he could wait at the park again. She was a little suspicious of him this time, but she said it was fine as long as he didn't get into any trouble, also muttering something about how she owed him for keeping her secret. During the day, he tried not to get his hopes up. Rather than gazing out the window and daydreaming, he tried to focus on what the teacher was talking about. He was incredibly tired though. He was tired a lot lately. He ended up staring blankly at the blackboard, the words all running together in his head. When the end-of-the-day bell rang, he didn't think of it as anything. It wasn't symbolic; it was just an irritating bell sound.

Trudging along the cracked footpaths, Haru slowly made his way to the park. He was trying so hard not to get his hopes up again. He didn't want to feel that disappointment again, but his heart fluttered at the chance of seeing Makoto. As he rounded the corner, the thumping in his chest faltered when he was met by an almost empty park. Today there was no ice cream truck and there were not children running around. The park was almost empty, an uneasy silence settling over the area.

Almost empty, but not quite. There was a man sitting at the bench by the fountain, his head bent low over a book. Haru took a step closer, squinting and realising it was Makoto. He wasn't wearing a suit like he had been the last two times, so he almost didn't recognise him, but the light brown hair gave him away. He was dressed in baggy casual clothes with no loud designs and Haru thought distantly that Makoto could look good in any kind of clothes. Walking up to him, Haru tried to make his approach noticeable so he wouldn't take the man by surprise. He wouldn't use his voice, so he had to kick the dry leaves when he could.

Makoto looked up, his eyes vacant and his mouth in a neutral position. He must have been so absorbed in his book that he was spacing out. When he laid eyes on Haru, his face split into a friendly expression, smiling with not only his mouth but also his kind eyes. "Hey," he greeted, scooting over on the bench so that Haru could sit next to him. "Haven't seen you in a while." It was the kind of comment that Haru couldn't exactly respond to, so he just nodded, his body suddenly feeling stiff. "Are you doing well?" Makoto seemed to have remembered how to phrase things properly since last time and it made Haru's lips twitch into a small smile.

He nodded again. It was true he'd had a few ups and downs recently, but he wasn't lying when he said he was doing well. He could forget about all the unpleasant things when he was around Makoto, and that was what he intended to do now. The man had an air about him that seemed to be purifying. It was nearly impossible to hang around him and not be infected with his cheerful mood. Haru gestured at Makoto as his way of asking how he was in return.

Tilting his head and humming in thought, Makoto averted his eyes, gazing at the calm waters of the fountain. "So-so," he admitted earnestly. "I've been pretty busy with university, but I guess it's not anything I can't handle." Haru's expression must have been pretty perplexed because where Makoto seemed like he would stop talking, he continued to elaborate instead. "I've got this huge assignment due at the end of next week and I'm sort of struggling with it. I've seen a few people for help, but I think I might have picked the worst topic." Although he punctuated his sentences with a light chuckle, Haru sensed that the workload was getting to Makoto more than he was going to confide.

A spark ignited in Haru's chest. He felt accomplished. He'd managed to understand something about another person without having to be told directly. That was a really good sign, but what did it mean? Maybe he was beginning to grow closer to Makoto. Unconsciously his lips curved into a smug smile. Even if it was only a little bit, he was able to understand something about Makoto.

"What?" Makoto asked curiously, noticing Haru's change in expression. Haru was suddenly overcome with embarrassment and he shook his head quickly, trying to convey that it was nothing. Makoto leaned a little closer, causing Haru's heart rate to accelerate but he didn't get why. "What?" Makoto repeated, dragging out the vowel sound to tease him. With a slender finger, he poked Haru's cheek, which made his face flush to the max. Laughing, Makoto slouched down in his seat, relaxing with a deep sigh.

A moment of silence passed between them and Haru couldn't stop thinking about how peaceful and calming the atmosphere was. While the water gently bubbled in the base of the fountain, Haru was struck with a thought. He'd suddenly come up with a way to communicate with Makoto without having to use his voice. His hands flew to his school bag and he wrenched the stubborn zip open, conscious of Makoto's eyes on him. He rummaged around in the pocket that was furthest away until he laid his hands on a notebook. He dragged it out, dully noticing that it was his Science book, and located a pen.

Flipping the book open to a random blank page, Haru scribbled, "I came here the other day and you weren't here." Since it was just written words on a lined page, no tone could be conveyed. Haru hoped it didn't sound accusing or anything like that. He only wanted to mention it so he might find out why. He thought it would be rude to outright ask "Why weren't you here?"

Makoto leant in to read the words without hesitation. Tapping his chin thoughtfully, he murmured aloud, "What day was that?" The question seemed to be for himself more than Haru, but Haru replied anyway by writing that it was on Monday. "Ahh," Makoto sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "I usually work on Monday's." Haru didn't really know what else to say so he just wrote that he understood. He didn't want to make it blatantly obvious how dependant on Makoto his moods had suddenly become. Really, he didn't even want to admit it to himself. At least now he knew coming to the park on a Monday was a waste of time.

"You know..." Makoto continued, looking Haru in the eye. His expression was serious but not in a daunting way. Somehow Haru felt that Makoto was trying to help him simply by being kind and not brushing him off. "I'm here most Thursdays." Was that...some kind of invitation? Was he telling Haru that so they could meet up on Thursdays, or was he just stating a fact? It was impossible to know without asking but it seemed impossible to ask.

"Me too," Haru wrote. "If my Mum lets me," he added almost as an afterthought. Beside him, he felt Makoto stiffen as if he'd said the wrong thing. Was it really that awkward to mention his mother? Maybe university students wanted to be independent so they didn't talk about their families. No, Haru knew that wasn't it. Makoto was remembering when Haru's mother had dragged him away. A burning feeling spread across Haru's cheeks and his eyes shot to his feet, his lips forming a hard, thin line as he tried to contain his emotions. He shouldn't be embarrassed because of his mother's actions. They weren't his fault. But he couldn't help it. It wasn't just how she'd screamed; it was how she'd intentionally humiliated him in public.

"Speaking of...isn't that her?" Makoto asked, his voice quiet. "Your mother, I mean." Haru looked up and followed the direction in which the man was pointing. Sure enough, stepping out of a dirty white car was his mother. Haru's body tensed and locked up, the blood in his veins snap-freezing and his stomach tightening in on itself. He didn't want to leave Makoto so soon. They'd hardly even had time to talk. Most of all, he didn't want his mother to go into another fit of rage.

She was early. The sun wasn't even setting yet. Haru had thought he had more time left. Hastily cramming his things into his backpack, Haru glanced up but it was too late. His mother had already spotted them and she was approaching. Haru nodded to Makoto and gave him a flustered wave, jogging over to his mother, who instantly had him by the ear, twisting his cartilage until it hurt. She dragged him back over to Makoto, ignoring his feeble attempts to break away and soft grunts of pain.

"I'm so sorry," she apologised to Makoto, the fakest smile imaginable spread thinly across her face. "Has my son been bothering you again?" Her voice was supposed to sound sweet but to Haru it sounded more like some form of a threat. Wincing in pain, he glanced at Makoto who looked just as shocked as he had last time, his face paling and his fists clenched.

Makoto stood up abruptly. "It's really no bother at all," he insisted, using jerky hand movements. "You don't have to...uh, I mean..." It was the first time Haru had really seen Makoto this lost for words. "You know, you don't need to punish him for anything." Haru's eyes widened in disbelief and he stared at Makoto, who was looking his mother in the face as if he possessed no sense of fear. How could he stand up to her like that? Why would he want to? It didn't make any sense. Nobody had ever tried to intervene or help him before, so why would Makoto want to. Haru realised it was simply because he was a kind hearted person.

"Don't tell me how to raise my son," Haru's mother retorted, her pleasant tone disintegrating into something more reminiscent of her two-faced nature. "I know what's best for him and what's not. I know when he deserves to be punished and when he doesn't. I don't need some snot-nosed stranger trying to tell me what to do." Haru could almost feel the flames on her breath and she reminded him distinctly of an angry dragon. He managed to wriggle free of her grasp while she was distracted and he rubbed his bright red ear, trying to numb the pain.

"I just think that...he deserves better than that," Makoto said carefully, his gaze flickering from Haru's mother to Haru. The sympathy was clear in his eyes and his intentions were obviously good, but Haru knew deep down he'd be hit for this later. He appreciated Makoto trying to help, but he wanted him to stop. He could deal with the violence but he didn't want Makoto to push things too far and end up getting hurt too.

A dark shadow passed across his mother's face and Haru felt his heart sink. She was already at her wits end and there wasn't much he could do. She started to yell, her voice echoing through the empty park. She told Makoto that Haru was worthless and a disappointment and he didn't deserve anything. She told Makoto to shut up because he had no idea what he was talking about. She told Makoto never to talk to Haru again. All the while, Makoto just stood there with a stony expression. He didn't waver and he didn't fight back.

Haru's mother had been expecting some kind of reaction. Maybe that's even why she was acting the way she was. Makoto's stoic aura seemed to be more fuel for her fire and she seemed to be even angrier than before, the vein on her forehead throbbing like it was about to explode. Her right arm twitched at her side, a sign that Haru recognised well. He knew he had to do something before she tried to hit Makoto. He couldn't let that happen.

He'd never stood up to his mother before. He didn't know what to do. A plethora of words were stuck in his throat and he grabbed onto her arm. She glared down at him, snarling for him to let go, but he refused to budge. Even if he was hit, even if he could never see Makoto again, he could deal with that as long as his mother didn't hit Makoto too.

"Let's go home," Haru said, his voice quiet and uneven, nearly inaudible. He felt like he'd lost control of it since he hadn't used it at all recently. It sounded foreign to his ears and he almost didn't recognise it as his own. "Mum, let's go home," he repeated a little louder, his eyes pleading with his mother.

Surprisingly, like a miracle, her gaze seemed to soften at the sound of his small voice. The tension fled her body and she sighed, agreeing that it was time to go home. Her anger flared up once more when she turned back to Makoto, snarling at him, "Don't you ever come near my boy again." And that was that.


	6. A Downward Spiral and a Spark of Hope

Although Haru was devastated that he couldn't see Makoto, several small miracles happened that night. When they arrived home, his mother had begun chopping vegetables and preparing dinner. She hadn't continued to shout at him and even more amazingly, his father hadn't laid a hand on him. Haru felt that on some level they seemed to be glad he was talking again. But truthfully he wasn't. He didn't want to talk again. He'd only used his voice to save Makoto. Over the next few days, when his parents realised Haru was still resolute in his silence, the usual treatment resumed. His mother berated and belittled him constantly and his father came home from work late and then knocked him into the wall.

Makeup became an almost every day necessity for Haru. His parents seemed to have even more pent up anger and he seemed to be their vessel for release. He resented everything that had happened in the park with Makoto that day. He wished he hadn't even gone. He wished he'd never met Makoto. Haru's chest ached whenever he thought of his face and he couldn't understand why. All he'd wanted was someone to look up to, someone to treat him like a normal person. For a while, he'd been able to enjoy that but he'd known it wouldn't last. In trying to help him, Makoto had only made things worse. Somehow Haru couldn't bring himself to hate Makoto for that. More than anything, he just wanted to see him again. That was why he wanted to forget.

With his mother in such a foul mood lately, Haru hadn't even bothered to ask if he was allowed to go to the park. He knew the instant answer would be no and he didn't want to press the issue in case she slapped him. He already felt light headed enough as it was. He came home from school and shut himself in his room. He didn't have anything to do and he was unbearably bored, but that was the only thing he could do. He sat on his bed in silence for hours before and after dinner. He felt incredibly lethargic. He couldn't remember ever feeling this tired in his life.

A few weeks rolled by and Haru had almost completely forgotten about Makoto. At least, that was the lie he told himself. In reality he thought about Makoto almost every day. When he sat down to do his homework, he wondered if Makoto could do it so much faster than him. Well, of course he could. Makoto was a genius. Haru looked up to him more than anything and didn't want to believe that Makoto would struggle with basic Math skills. Haru felt like he was being torn apart by being denied his right to see Makoto and he thought it was about time he did something about it; no matter what the consequences or punishment may be, it couldn't get much worse than it already was.

On a warm Thursday afternoon, Haru slipped out of school grounds a period earlier than home-time. With his eyes sweeping the courtyard, he made his way to the open gate, cautious that teachers may be watching from the classroom. No one called out to him or tried to stop him, so he assumed he was safe. His small feet padded against the hot pavers as he then made his way to the park and the concrete gave way to soft green grass. The buzzing of cicadas filled his ears and the blue sky was so bright and cloudless it seemed to be glowing. There were no children, of course, since it was still school hours, but Haru spotted several older people lazing around. A couple were lying on the hill looking like they were about to fall asleep and another girl was sitting on the edge of the fountain picking at her nails. Haru's heart thumped against his ribcage when he laid eyes on Makoto.

He was sitting at their usual bench, completely oblivious of the rest of the world due to the earphones in his ears. His right foot tapped in time with the beat of his music and he was holding a slim black PSP in his hands, mashing at the buttons like there was no tomorrow (although Haru was pretty sure most games were more complex than that). Haru approached him from behind and lightly tapped him on the shoulder. Makoto yelped at the sudden disturbance, visibly jumping and whirling around to face him, yanking his earphones out from his ears. Surprise was plainly evident on his smooth face and it made Haru's smile widen.

"Oh, it's you," Makoto breathed in relief. He waved the console around, continuing, "I play all these scary games even though they terrify me and make me really jumpy." A chuckle escaped his throat and Haru noticed he was looking him up and down, probably studying him for any sign of injury. Haru's smile faded. He really didn't want pity right now.

"Maybe you should stop playing them," Haru suggested, the words slipping out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He blinked in surprise. He hadn't intended to use his voice today, but he supposed being around Makoto was comfortable for him and it just naturally happened. With a small sigh, he gestured to the spot beside Makoto. "Can I sit down?" he asked. As expected, his voice was quiet and a little raspy from lack of use. He'd had to get used to his vocal chords again.

"Of course!" Makoto agreed, heaving his bag over to create a space for Haru. "Well, only if I can ask a question." Haru's butt hit the seat and he stared at Makoto for a moment in silence, wondering what he could possibly want to ask. There were so many things Haru wanted to know about him, so he obviously had a store of questions, but what could Makoto want to know about him? He nodded nervously, gesturing for Makoto to go on. "Why are you suddenly talking again?" he asked, a faint crease forming between his eyebrows. "Sorry if that seems rude," he added, smiling gently with his eyes.

Haru didn't think it was rude at all. It seemed like a reasonable question to him. "I don't know," he admitted shakily. "I mean, I stopped talking because I didn't want to care about people. So I guess I'm talking again because I care...about..." You. He didn't want to say it. Not to Makoto's face. If he couldn't really admit it to himself, there was no way in hell he'd be able to admit it to Makoto. All he'd succeed in doing would be humiliating himself and then he'd never be able to show his face to Makoto again. Haru understood well that he was nothing but a little kid with a childish attachment.

Even if Haru had made a sad attempt at hiding it, Makoto caught onto his train of thought and ruffled his hair. "More importantly though, why aren't you in school?" Gratitude washed over Haru for the change of subject, but the question and mild sign of affection both caught him off guard and he found himself speechless once again. It was almost unbelievable that Makoto had understood what he'd been trying to say and hadn't judged him for it. Wasn't it really uncool to have a kid hanging around you? But he knew Makoto was an incredibly kind person. As for why he wasn't in school...

"I wanted to see you," Haru huffed, closing his eyes and sighing deeply as he leant back against the uncomfortable wooden bench. "I'm stupid and I skipped school because I wanted to see you." He didn't add that he was lucky and almost died from relief to find that Makoto was actually there. He'd been almost certain that it was too early and he'd find himself alone again, having to sneak back into school and make up some excuse about why he'd been late to class. Makoto's hand moved to his hair again, but ruffling it a second time seemed like an odd gesture. Instead, he smoothed it down, petting Haru almost tenderly. Haru thought there was something more to that touch but he may have just been reading into it too much.

"Thank you," Makoto replied after a moment, his face serene. His entire body was slouched and relaxed in a way that Haru hadn't even known was possible. He seemed so at ease, as if a jet fighter could roar overhead right now, sending a gust of wind to knock everyone about and leaving a trail of smoke and steam in its wake, and Makoto wouldn't even bat an eyelid. He smiled at Haru, his face lighting up and his deep green eyes glinting in the sun. Haru had never noticed the slight dimples in his cheeks before and he found them so utterly cute that it hurt. Just knowing that Makoto was smiling at him was like adding salt to that injury.

Makoto's hand stroking his hair had a somewhat soothing effect and it was almost jarring when he pulled away. "You know," Makoto said slowly, suddenly looking exhausted. "You really shouldn't skip school. You'll get into all kinds of trouble if they find out and I'm sure your parents...won't be very happy." He stumbled over his words a little, biting his lip. It went without saying what Haru's parents would do if they found out. Makoto clearly didn't want to mention it, but it was almost unavoidable. "I can give you my email address and you can talk to me any time you like," he offered, trying to lighten the mood.

Unfortunately, for Haru it had the opposite effect. He felt a damp feeling sinking into his bones. "I don't have a computer or a phone," he said quietly, staring at his feet. His mother had told him never to see Makoto again and here he was disobeying her. Talking through email might have been the only way around that but it was impossible for him. "My parents have a computer but I'm never allowed to use it."

A moment of silence passed between them. Makoto leant back, stretching and leaning his arm out along the back of the bench. Haru knew he was only getting comfortable but like this it would have been so easy to just snuggle against Makoto and enjoy his warmth. Haru could happily forget about the rest of the world for a while. "Maybe I'll run into you at the store again," Haru said, trying to be cheerful but there was an underlying tone of disappointment that he couldn't disguise.

Makoto shook his head slowly. "I don't usually buy groceries there," he replied in a low voice. He seemed to be trying his hardest to find a way to help Haru but there wasn't any immediate solution. Haru wondered if Makoto had realised how important he was to him. Somehow, even though they'd only met a handful of times, Haru saw Makoto as a necessity in his life. Without Makoto, Haru didn't know if he'd be able to smile. One stranger had showed him kindness in a world full of people who couldn't care less.

"I don't care if I have to skip school," Haru blurted, his hands balling into clenched fists of determination. Even if his mother had forbidden it, he still wanted to see Makoto. He understood Haru better than his mother ever would. Makoto's features somehow seemed to soften and tighten at the same time, but that may have just been Haru's eyes playing tricks on him. Makoto leant forwards on his knees, clasping his hands together and heaving a sigh.

"Maybe not, but I do," he told Haru, staring directly into his eyes. "You might not think so right now, but believe me, school is pretty important. It's hard and it's boring, but you've gotta stick through it. I know you're a smart kid. I know you can handle it." Haru's heart was beating so hard at that compliment that it threatened to leap out of his chest. Makoto continued, "I'm going to give you my email anyway. Maybe you can email me from school. I'm sorry, but I don't want you skipping classes just to see me. It's not worth it."

Haru wanted to argue that it was worth it. Makoto was definitely worth it. But he couldn't bring himself to argue with Makoto. Instead he just nodded his head obediently and averted his gaze to his shoes. Makoto took a notepad and pen out of his pocket – was he always so prepared? – and jotted down his email address. Waving the piece of paper in front of Haru's face to get his attention, he said, "Take this and go back to school, ok? What's your last class? You've still got about twenty minutes left."

"French," Haru replied dully, taking the note from Makoto. He paused for a moment to admire the loops of his handwriting. It was very neat and it really seemed fitting for Makoto's character. Haru folded the paper in half and carefully slotted it into his pocket, not wanting to crumple it up. It was a gift from Makoto and he wanted to cherish it.

"Well then, _Amusez-vous, mon ami_," Makoto said, smiling gently and tilting his head. Haru's heart faltered as his mind took a second to register the words. French was a class he struggled with sometimes because he found it hard to pay attention, but he was pretty sure Makoto just said "Have fun, my friend."

Haru didn't want to move from the bench. Sitting beside Makoto seemed like the place he needed to be, especially after being called his friend. Haru's heart was pounding hard in his chest. He'd never been called someone's friend before. His mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out so he promptly snapped it shut, hoping Makoto hadn't noticed. He nodded stiffly, rising to his feet. There was a lump in his throat that he couldn't swallow and he swung his backpack over his shoulders, facing Makoto. "Thank you," he said, his voice quivering and his eyes watering. So much emotion was pent up in him. That thank you was for everything – the ice cream, the continual kindness, the email address. Makoto was truly the nicest person Haru knew.

Makoto stood up abruptly, a strange expression flickering across his face. Haru felt the tears begin to spill out of his eyes, and he hastily wiped them away with the back of his hand. Makoto stepped closer, surprising Haru by pulling him into a hug. Makoto was just as warm as he looked and Haru found himself crying into his chest. He was so much bigger than Haru that he felt like a barrier between Haru and the outside world. Sobbing in Makoto's arms, Haru couldn't bring himself to feel ashamed. All he could feel was safe.

"I don't...want to go," Haru choked out. With a sigh that rocked both of their bodies, Makoto slowly pulled away, looking Haru in the eye. Haru knew his eyes were red-rimmed and still overflowing with tears that he just couldn't hold back anymore but Makoto didn't look away.

"I'll walk you back," was all Makoto said, taking hold of Haru's hand. Haru nodded, wiping his face with his sleeve and sniffling. Makoto's hand was steady and it was something solid that held Haru to the earth. Otherwise he could have simply floated away. He felt heavy-headed from crying but surprisingly the rest of his body felt light. As they walked towards school in silence, Haru focussed solely on the fact that Makoto was holding his hand.

They reached the school gates just in time to hear the final bell ringing, shrill throughout the empty grounds. Soon, students would come rushing out like a flood. Makoto hugged Haru again and ruffled his hair. "I'll see you again, alright?" Even though it wasn't an explicit promise, Haru recognised it as one. He nodded in response, not really trusting himself to speak. Makoto gave him one last smile and then he crossed the road, just in time to avoid being trampled by the school kids. Haru stared after Makoto's back, watching him disappear around the corner and feeling very lonely despite being surrounded by people.


	7. Contact

Haru's mother arrived to pick him up about ten minutes later, coldly silent for the entire drive home. When Haru took his shoes off in the entryway, an open hand struck the side of his head, knocking him backwards. He stumbled as he tried to maintain his balance, but the pain was nearly blinding. His father stood above him, giving him his most menacing glare. His nostrils were flared and he was panting heavily, his face flushed red with anger. His mother came to stand beside him and both parents looked down on him. With her arms folded across her chest, Haru's mother said flatly, "We received a call from the school. You skipped class this afternoon."

Haru was in disbelief. He couldn't believe they'd actually found out – and so fast, too. His eyes were all dried up from earlier and no more tears would come. His voice was hoarse as he yelped in pain from being hit. Everything was a blur to him and he tried to ignore what was happening, tried his hardest to shut it out. Both his parents were picking on him, which was a rarity. He had no one to turn to, no one to help him. He suffered in silence until they were done. They left him in the entryway, battered and bruised. He was a crumpled pile of limbs on the floor, not willing to move.

Eventually, Haru picked himself up. His joints were sore and stiff and his entire body ached. He coughed and was surprised (and relieved) to find there was no blood. That was a good sign, at least. His nose was bleeding but not broken and his lower lip was split. The swelling was something no amount of makeup would hide. The right side of his face throbbed dully and he could already see several bruises coming to light on his arms. He dragged his feet down the hallway and shut himself in the bathroom, trying to clean himself up as best he could. He avoided looking at himself in the mirror wherever possible.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Haru realised the house was empty. There was a note on the bench saying "There's instant soup in the cupboard. We'll be home later." He felt hollow inside, his legs collapsing beneath him. He sat on the tiled kitchen floor, leaning against the wall and bringing his knees to his chest. He needed his cocoon right now. But how could they do this to him? First they beat him nearly senseless, and then they leave him home alone? What kind of parents were they?

Still, the tears wouldn't come. But Haru had a bright idea. With the gnawing pain in his stomach, he doubted he'd be able to stomach any food anyway. Instead, he used a paperclip to pick the lock to his father's study. Finding the button to turn the computer on was the hardest part so far. It wasn't password protected, so Haru immediately launched the web browser, opening web mail. His fingers paused above the keyboard, not knowing what to type. He wanted to email Makoto but he didn't know what to say. The truth began to flow from his fingertips. He told Makoto everything that had happened since he'd gotten home, and everything that was happening now. He pressed send and as the loading bar filled the screen, he only had one regret. He quickly opened up another new email and typed "Please don't worry," sending it only a few minutes after the first.

Haru didn't know how long he'd been lying on the floor or how long he'd been in the bathroom. His parents might have even stepped over him to get out the front door and he wouldn't have noticed. He realised that being on the computer right now was dangerous. He had no idea when his parents might come home and being caught in the study would be like a death sentence. He started to panic, his chest feeling unbearably tight. He moved the mouse to the log out button and was about to click it when the window flashed, indicating a new message. It was from Makoto.

"Haru, I don't know if you've ever considered contacting a Child Protection agency, but I think you should. Your parents aren't allowed to do that to you, and you must know that. If there's anything I can do, please let me know."

It was short and succinct and it showed that Makoto was concerned for him, but it still didn't help Haru very much. He'd already considered contacting some kind of authority before but he didn't like the idea of being forcibly removed from the house. It was true that most days he endured some form of abuse or neglect and he thought he didn't want to live there anymore, but there were some days when it was actually alright. There were some days when his mother was nice to him. He just couldn't bring himself to hate his parents. He hated what they did, but he found it harder to hate them. He logged out and shut the computer down, returning the desk to a state as close to original as possible. On his way out, he locked the door again, hoping his father wouldn't notice he'd been in there.


	8. Suddenly

Haru was made to stay home from school for the next few days because his injuries were fairly noticeable. It was ironic. He'd been hit for skipping school and now he was being forced to stay home. He spent almost the entire time in his room, thinking of emails that he would send to Makoto if he ever got the chance. The days passed without incident. His parents were hardly home and Haru had to cook his own meals. When they were home, they hardly spoke a word to him or looked his way. He hoped they felt ashamed of what they'd done. He hoped his bruised face served as a reminder of their failure.

His parents were out during the day one day and Haru thought it might be his opportunity to contact Makoto, to at least let him know that he was alright. He tried to pick the lock to his father's study again but something was different. Nothing he tried was working. With a strangled, desperate cry, Haru realised his father had changed the lock. It had to have been a coincidence, right? Surely if his father had known he'd broken in there, he would have been punished for it. But he hadn't been yelled at or hit at all since the last time. Haru dropped to his knees, holding his head in his hands. It was just too much. He didn't know what to do if he couldn't talk to Makoto.

Finally, Haru was allowed to go back to school. It was lunch break and Haru was alone, sitting without even food for company. He'd tried to scrape something together that morning but the cupboards were even more bare than usual. Breakfast had been a glass of milk and an apple and now he had no lunch. He felt a little weak from hunger, but he tried not to let it show. If he showed any kind of weakness, the other kids would spot it and pounce on him. The teacher came over to talk to him for a while, but as usual he remained silent. He nodded his head in the right places, but didn't respond or really absorb the words. Teachers were just people who passed on knowledge. They weren't paid to care about him so they didn't.

Haru's feet scuffed at the ground as he exited the school grounds, stuffing his hands in his pockets and standing by the road, waiting for his mother to pick him up. "Hey," a voice called out from behind him, carrying a cheerful ring to it. Haru recognised it even before he turned around. Casually leaning against the school fence was Makoto.

"What are you doing here?" Haru asked, his eyebrows shooting upwards in surprise. "It's not a Thursday. Don't you have to work? Or shouldn't you be at university?" He felt the blood drain from his face. Some of his bruises on his arms were pretty severe and they still hadn't faded and he didn't want Makoto to see them. Makoto took a few steps closer, peering at Haru's face. There was a thin faded scar on Haru's lower lip where it had been split and Haru repeated in his head that it wasn't noticeable unless you knew to look for it, and Makoto wouldn't notice it.

Makoto chuckled lightly. "Let me worry about that," he said. "How are you? I haven't heard from you in a while." Haru could hear several girls from his class chattering behind him, talking about how attractive Makoto was and it made a fierce jealousy spike in his chest. He was surprised by the sudden surge of emotion and didn't have a chance to think about his words before answering.

"My Dad changed the lock on the study door," he blurted out honestly, mentally wincing at his own stupidity. "B-but it's alright!" he added quickly, reassuring Makoto. "I'm fine." An anxious expression crossed Makoto's face and Haru realised he must have been worried about being spotted by his mother. "Ah, my Mum won't be here for another ten minutes," he told him, answering a question he hadn't even been asked.

"I'm not worried about her, I'm worried about you," Makoto mumbled, his eyes falling to Haru's arms. There was a yellowing bruise stretched across Haru's left forearm and it caught Makoto's attention. He gently held Haru's arm up to inspect it. "This looks pretty bad," he commented quietly. "You're probably lucky your arm didn't break. Did you put ice on it?" Haru shook his head. He hadn't realised icing a bruise would help.

"It's fine, really," Haru insisted. Makoto's cool fingertips pressed lightly against his skin and he flinched. It still hurt a little but it was nothing compared to how it had been a few days ago. "It's fine," Haru repeated, suddenly yanking his arm out of Makoto's grasp. It was hidden but he could sense the pity and all he could do was react violently to show that he didn't deserve it. Makoto nodded, his face sullen.

Haru froze suddenly, a white car catching his attention in the corner of his eye. Damn his mother. She was always late when he needed her on time, and early when he wanted her to be late. He threw a glance at Makoto, not sure of what to do. She swung her legs out of the car and walked over to them, a pleasant expression on her face. "Hi, how are you?" she said to Makoto. Haru was disgusted by how fake she was. Maybe it would be better to live with a better role model.

Makoto was stiff and he seemed uncertain, but he answered in a polite and friendly manner, as expected. Makoto could be Haru's role model, he realised. Haru thought living with Makoto would be pretty easy. But it was impossible and he didn't want to think about it too hard. That was something Haru wanted that Makoto couldn't give him.

"Let's go home, Haruka," his mother said, smiling and placing a hand on his shoulder. The touch was light and seemed affectionate, but it was cold and empty and he couldn't help himself from wincing under it. She steered him towards the car, not even breathing a word about him disobeying his orders and talking to Makoto. Haru knew what was coming next. When they got home, his father would have a stern word with him and he'd probably be hit again. His mother probably just didn't want to do it in public again.

His father wasn't even home when they arrived home. Haru went straight to his room and shut himself in, ignoring his mother when she knocked on the door. Apparently she'd gone to the trouble of cooking dinner, but he wasn't interested. He was glad that he hadn't been hit or anything like that. He really needed a break. All he could think about was Makoto and how amazing he was. Really, Makoto was inspirational to him. If he didn't have the spontaneous meetings with Makoto to look forward to, he really didn't know what he'd do.

Things seemed to be calming down around the household. His father hadn't been home during the evenings but his mother had been home to cook dinner four consecutive nights in a row, which was an astonishing record for her. Haru thought she wasn't a very good cook, but it was definitely better than anything he could make, and he wouldn't dare breathe a word of complaint for fear of his plate being hurled across the room – it had happened once before and he'd learned his lesson. With his mother in a reasonably good mood, Haru thought he'd try asking if he was allowed to go to the park on Thursday afternoon.

At the mere mention of the park, something inside his mother snapped. She flung her cutlery down on the ground and stood up so suddenly her chair clattered to the ground behind her. Cowering in his seat, Haru swallowed his food quickly, not wanting to choke on it. From the twitch in her arm, he definitely knew what was coming next and he wasn't mistaken this time. He saw stars, the legs of the table, and then darkness.


	9. Waking Up

When Haru regained consciousness, he didn't know where he was. Panic streaked through him and he sat up, blinking furiously until his eyes adjusted to the harsh fluorescent lighting. Everything around him was so white and sterile looking and the room didn't have any kind of scent to it. The bed he was lying in was covered in crisp white sheets and it was far too big for him. He felt like he was floating. He suddenly became aware of the bandage around his head, the stiff cast on his right wrist and the tube sticking out of his left arm.

A nurse entered, pressing him back down on the bed. She had a kind, round face and she told him in a calm voice that he was alright. He was in hospital and he'd been unconscious for a few hours. He was perfectly fine and he was in a safe place. They were trying to contact his Uncle, but the stubborn man didn't seem to be answering his phone. Haru wasn't sure if he wanted his perpetually drunken Uncle sitting beside his hospital bed. In a groggy voice, he asked the nurse as she was about to leave, "Where are my parents?" He was reluctant to use his voice but he wanted to know.

The nurse shook her head silently, closing the door behind her. Through the frosted glass, Haru could make out the shapes of two people talking. He could hear the muffled conversation, but the wall was too thick and he was too tired to decipher any individual words. The nurse held the door open while another woman entered the room. She was wearing a grey blazer and skirt and she had friendly eyes just like the nurse had. Haru didn't know if he could trust any of these people. It might have only been their outward appearances that were friendly. But for now, he didn't seem to have a choice.

She introduced herself but Haru made no move to acknowledge her. "How are you feeling, Haru?" the woman asked him, pulling up the uncomfortable looking chair and sitting beside his bed. Her hands clasped in her lap and she studied Haru carefully, her lips pursed and the corners of her eyes tight. She tried to maintain her friendly aura, but as Haru refused to reply, it became obvious that she was here for another reason. "Haru, I'm going to ask you a few questions and I need you to answer them truthfully, is that alright?" She'd taken on a mildly condescending tone and it bugged Haru.

"Yeah, that's fine," he replied in a clipped tone, making no effort to hide his irritation. He still had no idea who she was and what she wanted with him. That alone was daunting and made him stiffen up with tension. He didn't like not knowing people's intentions.

"Have your parents ever hit you?" Straight to the serious questions. Her face was blank but her eyes betrayed her. Even without asking Haru, it was clear that she already knew the answer. Haru suddenly realised where his parents were.

"Yes," he replied in a tight tone. "A lot, actually." That was all he could give her. If he went into much more detail, he worried he might burst into incoherent tears. She nodded her head slowly and scribbled something down on the clipboard Haru hadn't even noticed she'd been carrying. Ah, now it all made sense. He knew who she was.

"Have you ever felt unsafe in your own home?" she asked him, keeping her voice level. She looked slightly concerned now, as if she was worried she might push him over the edge. He knew he was sort of fragile but this woman didn't know his boundaries. Only he knew his limits and for now he felt fine.

"Yes," he admitted, his voice slightly strangled. Well, maybe he didn't exactly know his limits. He thought he was fine but apparently he was feeling more emotional than he realised. His eyes began to tear up and he thought of Makoto. He wanted to hug Makoto and be soothed by him until he stopped crying. But Makoto wasn't here and he wasn't listed as a next of kin so he wouldn't be called in unless Haru asked for him.

"Can you...do me a favour?" Haru asked suddenly, his eyes bright and alert. His gaze met the woman's and he saw that she looked a little apprehensive. She agreed that she'd try to help him out, depending on what the favour was. "My Uncle won't answer the phone," Haru told her, "and I don't want him here anyway. But I do have a friend. I can give you his email address. If you could tell him I'm here, that would...make me really..." He didn't want to finish that sentence. What would it make him? Happy? Maybe. At the very least, he guessed it would make him slightly less miserable.

The woman nodded faintly and wrote down the email address as Haru told it to her. He was lucky it was an easy enough address to remember. "Thank you," he murmured, his eyes fluttering closed. He was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. The nurse had said he'd been out of it for a few hours, but his body seemed to have decided he was in need of more rest. He drifted in and out of sleep, vaguely aware of a needle being jabbed in his arm at one point.

Haru's eyes opened slowly and he was met by the same glaring, almost hostile light. He felt disorientated and his body felt heavy. He sat up and looked around, surprised to see a figure hunched over in the chair beside his bed. They seemed to be asleep and it took him a moment to comprehend that it wasn't the same social worker from earlier. He lightly touched the man's shoulder to shake him awake.

"Makoto," Haru whispered, shaking him gently. His voice was thick with sleep and his mouth was dry but he was burning with a sense of gladness that Makoto was actually here. "Makoto, wake up." With a start, Makoto sat up and frowned as his eyes focussed on Haru.

"Haru!" Makoto exclaimed, his face lighting up. "You're finally awake!" Haru rolled his eyes. The same could be said for Makoto. Almost reflexively, he slipped his hand into Makoto's, who only squeezed it in response and smiled at him. There was a slight tug on the drip in his arm, but it didn't hurt and it didn't feel like it was going to pull out so that was fine. "I'm so glad you're ok," Makoto went on. "I got an email from the hospital staff and it woke me up and I freaked out. I got here as soon as I could. I was really worried."

Makoto had been worrying about him. Emotionally, Haru felt on the verge of tears but his body didn't react in the same way. "Makoto, you make me really happy," Haru confessed before he could regain his senses. Immediately, he pulled his hand away and covered his blazing face. The bed was too hard for him to sink through the bottom of it and hide. The words could have seemed innocent enough. Friends made each other happy, right? But that wasn't how Haru had meant it. From his young perspective, it was horrifyingly embarrassing, maybe even a little wrong, so he'd never admit it in that way.

"Thank you," Makoto said quietly, ruffling Haru's hair. Maybe he'd known all along that Haru was oddly attached to him. Did it bother him? He didn't act like it did. It was clear that he didn't return the feelings on the same level, but it made Haru feel better to at least know that Makoto did care about him. If he didn't, why would he have come to the hospital? There were so many questions that Haru would never ask, and therefore he'd never have the answers to, but he tried not to let it bother him. He was just glad that Makoto was there for him.


	10. Epilogue

A few weeks later, everything had settled down again. Haru had been moved in with a foster family. The two parents were really nice but Haru still only spoke when absolutely necessary. They didn't have any children of their own and they were happy to involve him in everyday family life. The social worker checked up on him every few days and he told her that he was doing fine. Adjusting to life with a normal family would be difficult and it would obviously take time, but he was slowly getting used to it. They were very good to him. They cooked lunches and dinners for him every day. They were the ones who did the grocery shopping. They made sure they never raised their voices, but at the same time they had rules he had to follow and they taught him better manners. Most importantly, they let him see Makoto in the park every Thursday afternoon.

At night in bed, when everything was quiet, Haru thought of his parents. He didn't want to admit it to anyone but he missed them. He wondered what they were doing, how they were coping without him. Life was looking up for him so he hoped at least they could be happier too. Maybe he was naive for believing that, but he realised the thought probably made him a kind person. He hoped one day he could forgive them. He hoped one day he could be as kind as Makoto was.


End file.
